


Safe Places, Safer Minds

by rapowstner



Category: Venom (Comics), Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Body Dysphoria, Gen, References to Depression, Sharing a Body, Venom Symbiote Takes Care of Eddie Brock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-09-01 11:50:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16764577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rapowstner/pseuds/rapowstner
Summary: There’s something to be said about the sensation of looking at yourself in the mirror after so long.Eddie faces reality in the aftermath of the Life Foundation crisis.





	Safe Places, Safer Minds

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, peeps! This is a short fic I wrote as an assignment for my English class. I was required to write a fanfiction so I tried a little character study type of thing. After I finished it I thought it wouldn't hurt much to post it, so here it is!
> 
> Please be aware that it contains strong language and sparse body descriptions on the light of someone with body dysphoria. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy :)

There’s something to be said about the sensation of looking at yourself in the mirror after so long, Eddie thinks. It’s that kind of feeling deeply set between his ribs, of something pressing tight right under his heart – a sensation that he hasn’t felt since the whole Life Foundation ordeal. And that happened almost five fucking months ago.  
  
He used to feel like this. All the time, actually. But that was when he dragged his life through hell and back. Right after he impulsively threw everything he built to the wind. After he lost his bride, and before that creepy black goo lodged itself in his cerebellum.  
  
It was fucking hard, that’s what it was. Eddie was always sure that destiny didn’t hold much to people like him. To be quite honest, he’s not even sure how he even dragged himself out of the shit hole that was his childhood. There’s a lot of empty memory slots in the shape of drinking and smoking and snorting and odd jobs at odd times, but somehow he managed to create something out of himself. A little safe space with a house, a nice job and an even nicer woman at his side. God, he had been such an asshole to Anne.  
  
He’d actually been clean by the time Carlton fucking Drake happened.  
  
And even then, while on the verge of making the stupidest decision of his life, confronting a corrupt man with too much fucking power, his hands trembled with all the excitement that his perfectly shaped life didn’t offer him.  
  
Maybe that’s why Eddie was brought to a new level of rock bottom after that. Yes, he hurt Anne and lost her in much less time than it took him to fall in love with her. Yes, he lost his precious job and his amazingly located house. And yet… And yet there was a definite _lack_ of the sad and miserable feelings he was certain he should be going through.  
  
This time, the gut-wrenching feeling doesn’t come from guilt or melancholy. It simply comes from looking at the results of these last months – looking at the mess that his body has become. A sickly noise escapes his throat.  
  
God, he looks _disgusting_.  
  
The sweating is nothing new. Well, it’s fairly new. But not a very recent predicament. Eddie grew up being a bit messy in that sense, but _what the hell_. Having to provide for two, he wasn’t even sure where his body even got this much moisture from. Going around on the streets now was just as much as a hassle as staying home: always fretting, always uneasy with unspent energy, always aware of his sweaty clothes and the easy way he could start _smelling_.  
  
There’s also the black holes down his eyes. He’s been so fucking tired lately, always needing to close his eyes a bit here or there. And even so, his dark circles look so deep his eye sockets seem to be melting right off his fucking face. The paleness is also a fairly recent thing. He supposes it came with the deep-set fatigue that has grown like a fungus on his bones and muscles. And the sweating. Always the sweating.  
  
But, man. That was nothing. Eddie was used to those things from the moments he had enough energy to spent shaving or flossing or whatever shit functional people did every day. It’s everything else, man. The way his body was inflating like a star right before imploding. He has tits. Jesus fuck, really disgusting pieces of fat dangling from his chest – making his nipples heavy and pointy and so _visible_. He has fucking rolls, man. His body hair looks so weird and sparse around the soft flesh. It’s practically overflowing from his underwear. _What the fuck._  
  
Oh my fucking god, he’s going to fucking puke in his fucking putrid bathroom he hasn’t cleaned in months.  
  
Distantly, he can feel that tender feeling of his Other’s manifestation through his skin. The usual prickle is not present, he fleetingly notes, all dispersed in the way his whole body is tingling with goosebumps and over-sensitivity. He is very suddenly so hyper-aware of everything: the rasping, deafening sound of his wheezing breath, the dizziness rolling in waves through his throat and stomach, the cramps on his muscles and the pain on his fingers from holding to the sink too strongly… The way his fucking chest is so tight he can’t suck in any air and his heart seems it’s about to fucking _burst_.  
  
His body starts to move, but this time he doesn’t have the energy to care for the bizarre feeling of his members being messed around without him meaning to. Everything is so bright. _So bright_ in contrast to the black tendrils that slither up his feet and ankles. _Smoothly, seamlessly._ His Other has gotten so much better at this – the whole controlling of bodies and corporeal manifestation type of thing. And Eddie is so glad. So relieved that there’s someone else in there to take control of things. To protect him and his body when reality seems so keen on slipping through his fingers.  
  
He detachedly observes while that oily mess wraps itself across his heavy stomach and chest, coming up his face until he sees nothing else but beautiful, _beautiful_ darkness. His heart is still fucking tight, but the warm, living enclosure he finds himself in is nothing less than soothing. It’s as if Venom’s tendrils are everywhere in his body, making a home of every little nook and capillarity that was previously empty. God, he feels tired. So tired of holding up and thinking and _existing_. And at the same time, he is so glad. _So fucking glad._  
  
**“Eddie, what is this?”** Some other moment Eddie might take a minute to appreciate just how much worry that deep disembodied voice can portray. Well, no more disembodied, is it? **“What is this? This feeling? _Eddie, we don’t like it._ ”**  
  
Venom is fussing over him. Eddie can now feel him actively sweeping through his mind, looking around that messy shit for some sort of answer for this whole nightmare.  
  
It’s a really weird irony that the symbiote gave up on the premises of his entire species for this broken ass human he accidentally found. Eddie can’t help the bitter laugh that overflows from his throat. Man, he’s certainly lacking on his end of the contract.  
  
**“That is not _nice_ , Eddie.”**  
  
Eddie snorts. He’s on the verge of hysteria – his body pumped with leftover adrenaline from seconds before. He doesn’t even know what to say. Sorry? It’s not a lie, though. If he needed _phenethylamine_ so much, he could have found a healthier brain to live from.  
  
**“We don’t need other brains. We want _Eddie_ ”**, Venom’s deep voice interrupts, sounding absolutely miffed.  
  
“Well, love” Eddie doesn’t even know exactly how to answer. His mind briefly goes back to the scene before the mirror “It’s just that… It would definitely be easier. Wouldn’t it, darling?”  
  
Venom goes silent for a while and inside that hulking body Eddie gulps. There are things that they don’t exactly acknowledge. Kind of an unspoken rule. Just like Eddie doesn’t prod on his Klyntar related shit, Venom lets those inane human worries for humans alone. And now here they are. Dealing with the after-effects of a panic attack because Eddie doesn’t seem to, you know, be able to deal like a grown man with… With… With the pudginess of his stomach and the creepy intrusive thoughts.  
  
**“We don’t want easy”** Venom starts after a while, harsh with barely concealed rage like everything else he does. **“We want Eddie because Eddie _accepts_ us.”**  
  
Eddie starts to form some sort of response, but Venom swiftly cuts him off.  
  
**“Stop!”** Eddie pauses. Venom really seems frustrated. **“It’s why we left Riot and the others! Eddie wants us, so we want _Eddie_. We make things better… together.”**  
  
He sounds so uncomfortable talking like that that Eddie can’t help but laugh, thinking of all the rom-coms the symbiote has been watching as an excuse for “research” of all things.  
  
And just like that, the last bit of tightness unfurls from his heart. All because of some nice and cheesy words a freaky symbiote that made a home of his brain said. But Eddie doesn’t mind, because if Venom has shown anything over the last months of their endeavour is that nothing is even _allowed_ to hurt them.  
  
And that is safe. That is alright.  
  
Eddie guesses he can deal with that.

**Author's Note:**

> All constructive criticism is welcome and needed!
> 
> Cheers.


End file.
